The Frisby Waterless Murders: An Inspector Knowles Mystery Book 3

By Julian Worker

The third book in the Inspector Knowles series sees Knowles and Sergeant Barnes investigating why the wrong person died on a murder/mystery excursion on a steam train. It seems more than one person wanted the victim dead and the question is: who murdered Major Harkness in full view of 24 people without any of them noticing?

As with the Goat Parva Murders and the Manton Rempville Murders, Knowles and Barnes work tirelessly to see through the smokescreens placed in their path. The clues point this way and then that way. More than one person is disappointed to find out they didn’t kill the Major before Knowles and Barnes track down the real murderer.

Characters from previous books are reintroduced such as Carly Waferr, the magic mushroom lady, who was hired to provide the catering for the excursion train, and Adelaide Hills the owner of Bingo the retriever, who makes his usual significant contribution to the investigation.

The verbal sparring of Knowles and Barnes is once again to the fore in this fast-paced ride through the lovely, but dangerous English countryside.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mirador Publishing
• Release date: Sep 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781911473374

Julian Worker

“Little Known British Traditions” is my first book of humourous stories. One of my stories, Safari Sickness, has been recently published in an anthology called “Leave the Lipstick, Take the Iguana” by Travelers’ Tales. Other articles have recently appeared in the Expeditioner online e-zine, and in Americas the magazine of the Organization of American States. My travel stories have appeared in The Toronto Globe and Mail, The National Catholic Register, International Travel News, The Philadelphia Inquirer, and the Southern Cross newspaper in South Africa. On the Internet my writing has appeared on the following websites: In the Know Traveller, Go World, Paperplates, Intravel, and GoNomad. I have also taken many photographs that have appeared in travel guides/articles by National Geographic, Thomas Cook, The Rough Guides, and The Guardian.

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The Frisby Waterless Murders

An Inspector Knowles Mystery

By

Julian Worker

First Published by Mirador Publishing at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 by Julian Worker

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All right reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without permission of the publishers or author. Excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

First edition: 2016

Any reference to real names and places are purely fictional and are constructs of the author. Any offence the references produce is unintentional and in no way reflect the reality of any locations involved.

A copy of this work is available though the British Library.

IBSN : 978-1-911473-37-4

Other Books By Julian Worker

Julian’s Journeys

40 Humourous British Traditions

Sports The Olympics Forgot

Travel Tales From Exotic Places Like Salford

The Inspector Knowles Mysteries

The Goat Parva Murders

The Manton Rempville Murders

Chapter 1

Monday 11 a.m.

You’re telling me people pay to investigate the murder of someone who’s not actually dead? People pay to play at being us? For fun?

Detective Sergeant Rod Barnes smiled at the incredulity in the voice of his boss, Colin Knowles. Barnes thought Knowles must have led a sheltered life if he’d never heard of murder/mystery parties. Barnes had often wanted to take part in such an event, but had reasoned that it would have to be somewhere far away, where nobody knew his occupation otherwise it would be embarrassing if he picked the wrong murder suspect and someone leaked this information to the newspapers. He’d have to resign in shame from the force and take up gardening. No more expensive suits for him, no more holidays in The Maldives, just because he’d picked the wrong actor in a fabricated situation. He’d never won at Cluedo either, but explained that away by telling his friends he didn’t want to show off. Today represented a first though; a real murder during a murder/mystery event on a moving train and it was his job to find out who did it.

Detective Inspector Knowles was staring at him. Barnesy, are you looking forward to going on the choo-choo train?

I do like steam trains, sir, in fact I would say it’s my favourite mode of transportation. The Flying Scotsman, The Duchess of Hamilton, Mallard - great names.

Why would you name a train after a duck?

Because of the grace they exhibit when paddling through the water?

Ducks aren’t graceful; they waddle from side to side and quack. I would have thought they’d have chosen a name that portrayed speed and elegance, such as Cheetah or Swift.

You should enter those suggestions in the competition for naming the next batch of High-Speed Trains.

I will do Barnesy, but I am sure I wouldn’t win as they will choose the name of one of the wealthy landowners across whose land the new line has been built.

You’re probably right - so the winning name will be something like Lord Flixton or Lady Sarah Ravenscroft.

Almost certainly, anyway what was the name of the train where our murder took place?

Toby Jug, sir, they were running from the depot at Little Flixton to Frisby Waterless and back again. Pulling just the kitchen/dining car and the carriage containing the murder/mystery party.

Right and there were 25 of them in the party. Knowles looked around at the trees and hedgerows speeding by and hoped Barnes didn’t brake too hard on the slippery road, covered with the first brown leaves of autumn. This road was the opposite of a Roman road as there were 90 degree bends every few hundred yards, indicating the boundaries of the farmer’s fields. The Romans clearly didn’t bother to find out who owned the land when building their roads. Or was everything in common ownership at that time?

Are we there yet? Can’t this thing go any faster Sergeant? Knowles hoped the irony wouldn’t be lost on Barnes.

It can, sir, Morgan’s can go up to 170 miles per hour, but this one has an electronically controlled top speed of 148 mph, so we’re only halfway there at the moment. Barnes smiled as he knew Knowles’s Land Rover had a top speed only slightly higher than the rate they were currently travelling at.

So - let me get this straight, said Knowles, realising that Barnes was enjoying himself breaking the speed limit on police business, we’re going to investigate a situation where the wrong person has ended up dead and we have to work out who did it?

That’s correct, Inspector, and we don’t have to pay for the privilege either, so we are going to encounter some resistance in this situation. There will probably be around a dozen amateur sleuths who will all have their own suspects and we will have to rise above their views…

...because we are professional sleuths…

Yes, and we will have to get it right, first time, and hope they are all wrong.

This could get a bit tricky, diplomatically, said Knowles furrowing his brow, so I might struggle to rein myself in. He tried to remember the counsellor’s words of advice - count to ten - or was it a hundred - before even formulating your response. Don’t show your impatience and remember to smile at all times.

The Morgan hurtled along the increasingly wet road towards the Welcome to Little Flixton - Please drive carefully sign. The 30 sign was a blur as Barnes headed towards the station terminus where Little Toby was waiting in a siding so as to keep his guilty secret away from prying eyes.

Who organised this murder/mystery, Sergeant Barnes?

It was the Frisby Waterless and District Round Table, sir, raising funds to buy some more trees for the National Forest.

That King Arthur legend has a lot to answer for; those people all think they’re knights in shining armour going around doing good deeds, slaying the dragons of modern life, and protecting people from the evils of our society.

On a voluntary basis…

That’s correct, volunteer knights rescuing damsels in distress.

Saplings that need a good home and proper organisation. Trees that need to be placed on the straight and narrow.

Indeed Sergeant Barnes; I think that’s the train over there. I think you can slow down now...wait a second, I recognise that person over there - what’s she doing here?

A late middle-aged woman carrying a large basket was sitting on the bench on the station platform looking wistfully at the train.

Carly Waferr? Is she a member of the Round Table?

She’s not their Queen Guinevere figure is she sir?

I hope not for their sake - unless Sir Lancelot is blind of course - anyway let me out here and I will go and speak to her; I will see you at the scene of the crime in a few minutes.

Knowles ambled over towards Carly Waferr who physically recoiled from him as he approached. She gripped her basket tightly.

Carly Waferr, what are you doing here? Were you the one who was going to be murdered?

No, Inspector, this is nothing to do with me, I was just doing the catering for the trip.

Magic mushroom salad?

Mushroom soup, actually, then a carrot, bean, and celery salad with condiments followed by quiche a la Goat Parva and vol-au-vents, rounded off with an organic blueberry ice cream and decaffeinated tisanes and coffee.

This is a weight watchers trip, then?

Healthy eating in The Shires is my motto, Inspector.

Is it now - all grown in your own garden and the local woods I presume?

Just the garden, actually. I don’t go to the woods to look for mushrooms any longer as the only ones left are the poisonous ones.

That’s like a parable of modern society, Carly. You’ve used up all the sustainable resources and all that’s left is the poisonous stuff, which can’t be used by anyone. What is the point of a poisonous mushroom anyway? Who or what can eat that? Knowles made a mental note to ask the Reverend Strong at Goat Parva why God had created poisonous mushrooms and what their role was in God’s plan of creation. Did God have a bad couple of minutes during the creation week, perhaps on a Monday morning, and create all the venomous creatures, poisonous plants, and horrible diseases at that time?

Perhaps they’re a throwback to the time of the dinosaurs when creatures were a lot bigger and so wouldn’t be affected by such small amounts of toxins. But then that comet hit us around 65 million years ago and all the dinosaurs died out, but the mushrooms survived.

Knowles had a vision of the tabloid headline Mushrooms survive direct hit by comet but decided he should get back to official police business.

Carly, he said in his best inspector’s voice, who hired you to do the catering at this event?

That would be Gerald from the Preservation Society; said he had twenty five to feed a lunch to and could I help him out? I could, of course, although I had to get a bigger mixing bowl for the salad - I thought about using an old horse trough, but I didn’t of course cos that would have contravened health and safety rules.

It would Carly, surprisingly enough it would, for many reasons. Knowles nodded his head to emphasize the point. Carly Waferr smiled as she had been half-joking, though there was a small horse-trough in her shed, which would have done the job as long as she’d removed all the rust beforehand. What would she have mixed the salad with though?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Inspector Knowles’s next sentence - Carly, who is Gerald from the Preservation Society, and where is he now?

He’s the train manager; he’s the one who was co-ordinating the entire event; I expect he’s still on the train.

Yes, that’s probably the best place for a train manager. Now, had you served your delicious meal to the clientele?

No, the lunch I described was for when everything was over. I had just served a beverage and a muffin, Inspector, and some of the plates that came back were wiped clean.

Is it possible that the death was down to something you served? I am not suggesting you are responsible for the death, of course, but could there have been an allergic reaction to something you served?

I doubt that, Inspector Knowles, the victim was found dead in his seat without any outward signs of distress, as though he had been poisoned. Allergic reactions are usually more noticeable and people enquire regarding your health.

Well that is something we will have to establish when we examine the body, but thank you for the information, Carly. Please don’t leave the scene until we have agreed it’s OK to do so.

Carly Waferr nodded her head in a slightly dejected fashion - there was no point in going home because Inspector Knowles knew exactly where she lived and would come and fetch her; he had done that before a few weeks previously in connection with another matter.

Knowles smiled and then turned around to look at the steam train in the station. The carriages were chocolate and yellow with numbers painted in white on each of the doors. As he walked along the platform he saw the locomotive had a 4-4-0 configuration. The rain was evaporating in small puffs of steam as it hit the green engine. Knowles could see his reflection in the polished surface and wondered if that’s what an alien version of himself from another galaxy would look like. He hoped not. For the sake of the alien.

Knowles saw his Sergeant talking to Dr Crabtree from Forensics and knew it was time to start his investigation. He glanced into the dimly lit station cafe with its white walls and orange-upholstered metal chairs and saw a couple of uniforms, including Linda Smythe, talking to some people who wanted to go home. He knew Linda would placate them for a while, but it was time to start taking their statements and finding out who everyone was and what their role in the day’s entertainment really involved. Some were members of the Round Table and others had to be actors, hired to play their role with a degree of conviction, as it were. One of them had to be the intended victim and Knowles wanted to know whether that person felt disappointed not to have died this day. The harassed tea-ladies were pouring tea from a large urn for everyone and opening packets of biscuits to stave off the hunger pangs. The Perspex display cabinet by the counter contained a solitary green apple and three white plates with a covering of light-brown crumbs. Knowles remembered days when his dessert plate would have looked like that after he’d polished off a large portion of cheesecake. Those days were gone and he felt better for it.

Sir, Dr Crabtree would like to talk to you about the victim. Sergeant Barnes smiled at Knowles and pointed helpfully towards the end of the platform.

Thanks, Barnesy, and who is our victim? asked Knowles trying not to smile at Barnes’s pointing ability.

A Major Ronald Harkness, formerly of the Coldstream Guards, retired for three years, who was sitting in seat 22 although according to the seating plan he should have been in seat 26 but wanted to be moved because he needed more legroom.

An old war wound bothering him? asked Knowles.

I will find out from the train manager, sir replied Barnes and headed on to the train.

Knowles shook Dr Crabtree’s hand as they exchanged pleasantries.

So, Dr Crabtree, last time it was a sword, what do we have this time?

Colin, something more subtle, I am not 100% sure. I think he has been poisoned because he died of asphyxiation, which might have been because of something he ate or more likely because something similar to a blow dart penetrated a vein in his neck although I have not found that dart.

Are we talking about Amazonian frog poisons?

We may be, Colin, don’t get too excited, not yet anyway.

Could the dart have been made from ice?

No, I don’t think that would work.

So the murderer somehow inserts a dart into the Major’s neck and then removes it before anyone notices it?

It would only need to be there for a few seconds for the poison to take effect.

If it was fired though, threw a blowpipe, the victim would surely feel something?

Normally, yes it would feel like a sting, but if you were being distracted by something or someone else then you might not notice.

But the someone else would notice a dart in your neck, surmised Knowles.

So the someone else idea wouldn’t really work; we are looking for a distraction. Dr Crabtree tried to sound convincing.

Yes, we are especially if someone was carrying around a blowpipe. That surely would have been noticed by someone?

Again, not necessarily, the murderer could have used a biro or a recorder or some other small tube.

Once you have vacated the carriage I will ask the uniforms to perform a thorough search and see what they can find that’s tubular. A recorder would be an interesting murder weapon I have to say and would be a first for me. Imagine - the murderer plays a tune as he/she kills someone.

Very different from a heavy cavalry sword, Colin.

Indeed, very different - do you know where the train manager is? I should talk to him first and see what happened on the journey.

He’s still on the train I believe looking after the victim’s wife and signing our paperwork on behalf of the owners.

OK, doc I will have a look at the body when you’ve had a chance to determine the exact course of death. Oh here’s Sergeant Barnes looking all eager. Barnesy, what do you have to tell me?

"The Major did indeed have a ‘war wound’ - he was shot in the left thigh in Iraq and in Northern Ireland and so had great difficulty in sitting comfortably without having this leg stretched out